Chuck Vs The Long Long Day
by srslypau
Summary: A day in the life of Team Chuck, one hour per chapter. Post season 2. The new Intersect hasn't been working and everyone is a little bit tense about that. Chuck/Sarah, because they're cute. Rated T just to be safe.
1. 01:00 Two beds?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the show or any of the characters. Sarah Walker does own me, though.

_A/N: I... don't even know what to say about this. It's one day in the life of Team Chuck, one hour per chapter. And I really hope you'll enjoy :)_

**01:00 Two-bed?**

It all started like a regular day in his new life. He flashed on a man at the grocery store, told Casey and Sarah, and General Beckman ordered them to go neutralize the bomb he was planning to use to reduce the entire city to ashes. Nothing special, just your ordinary save-the-world shenanigans that were part of being the Intersect. The new and improved Intersect, actually, with Kung-fu superpowers to add to the usual flashes. Chuck was mostly used to it by now.

It had been an uneventful mission at first. They arrived at the café where the bomb was supposed to be located, he asked for two espressos, a scone and a chocolate muffin – his "girlfriend" had a sweet tooth, you see – and Casey served them to him with a grunt on the side, just to add to the sense of normalcy. Of course, that wouldn't last. Something told him he should have known tranquility meant trouble when Bad Guys were involved.

Things happened fast after he put the muffin in front of Sarah. Three men walked into the cozy little café, four men stood up, Chuck flashed on all seven on them… and all hell broke loose. It was all kind of a blur: guns being pulled from – apparently – thin air, Casey going into full-on combat mode, and a scary number of sharp, shiny knives appearing on Sarah's hands. Chuck just stared at the fight unraveling in front of him. It was too late to stay in the car, but not to duck and cover under a table the second Casey barked the order at him.

Okay, it was all going just fine. Casey took down two – no, make that three – of the men, and Sarah was just about to severely injure her second opponent. It was all under control. Team Chuck had it covered. That is, until one of the men shot Casey and the remaining Bad Guy joined him in pointing his gun at Sarah. So maybe it was not all okay. That's two guns and one Sarah, and Chuck may not have been a seasoned spy, but he'd seen enough fights to know two guns and one agent was never a good combination.

"Who do you work for, Blondie?"

Chuck could almost hear Sarah's teeth grinding with rage. That was about the moment when she was supposed to go all crazy – and very, very sexy – ninja on those guys and take them down using hairpins, or her belt buckle, or even one of her high-heeled shoes. Sarah was like a badass MacGuiver: she could make weapons out of virtually everything she touched. But a second passed, and then another, and she didn't move. Even more worryingly, there was no blood-thirsty Casey jumping from behind the counter to save the day. Chuck was beginning to get very close to the point where all he could do was let out a terrified squeaky sound and await his death.

"I'm going to blow that pretty little face right off your head."

And then a click. Not just your regular click, mind you, but the kind of click you hear right before a gun is fired. A gun that was aimed at the aforementioned pretty little face on Sarah's head. And that was all it took for Chuck to scramble out of his hiding spot – the fact that he hit his head on the corner of the table did not, in his opinion, change the heroic nature of his action – and turn the Bad Guys' attention to himself.

"Wait!" Sarah shot him a death glare that, quite frankly, was not nearly as scary as having one of the two guns now pointing at _his_ pretty little face.

"And who are you?"

"Carmichael." If Casey was still alive – and he hoped against hope that he was both alive and about to manhandle the two Bad Guys – Chuck was sure he was rolling his eyes right then. "Agent Charles Carmichael. I'm the one you want. Not her." A look of complete awe at his manly spy-ways on Sarah's face would really have helped his voice sound steadier than it did.

"Really?" Chuck managed a nod. "In that case, I'll have to kill you both." Well, he should have known. Bad Guys usually went for the option with more dead bodies, after all. "And Blondie will go first."

"No!" He wasn't sure if he yelled and then jumped or if it happened the other way around. Either way, there was a yell, and he jumped and pushed Sarah away, and a gunshot, and then there was pain. Oh, so much pain. Probably blood, too, but he was scared too look in case he fainted. Actually, he was beginning to feel a little dizzy from the blinding pain on the right side of his abdomen. Very dizzy, to be honest.

And then he saw red. Literally.

That's when he jumped to his feet and kung-fu kicked the guns off the men's hands. And then he felt as if he was being handled by a kid on a sugar high with an Xbox controller in his hands. There was punching and kicking and even an insane move that he was fairly sure would make him have cramps in his nether regions the next day.

Next thing he knew, the pain was back.

"Chuck?" Sarah. Pretty, beautiful Sarah with her pretty little face still firmly attached to her skull. "Chuck, are you all right?" He – rather ungracefully – sat on a chair. "Are you hurt? Chuck, talk to me!"

"Ouch." Sarah fumbled with his blazer and saw what he could only assume was blood. He closed his eyes, defeated. "Tell Ellie I love her." Sarah ripped his shirt open and ran her hand along his stomach until she touched the spot that made Chuck wince in pain. He was going to die, wasn't he? So young. He hadn't even had the chance to give Windows 7 a try. It was supposed to suck less than Vista. "And Awesome. And Morgan. And Jeff. And Lester. And Big Mike too, if you have the time." He could hear someone walking behind him. God? An angel? He was running out of time. "And, Sarah? Before I go, I want you to know that I love…"

"For the love of God, Bartowski, man up!" Casey? Were they both dead already? How had Casey ended up in Heaven? "It barely touched you, you moron."

Chuck opened his eyes then, only to be faced with a disgusted-looking Casey with a hand on a blood-soaked spot on his shirt and a Sarah that looked far too calm to be witnessing her cover boyfriend bleed out. "What?" He took a peek at his side and saw blood. And then a little scratch. And then… nothing. "Where's the bullet hole?"

"Your entire brain is a hole, dumbass." Casey growled and used his free hand to grab Chuck's shirt and pull him up to his eye level. "If I hadn't passed out I would've killed you myself for that stunt you pulled." Chuck couldn't suppress a squeaky sound when Casey dropped him on the chair. "I'll see you two at the Castle." And, just like that, he left.

Well, that was embarrassing.

"You saved the day." Sarah was smiling at him. That smile she saved for life-changing moments. "You saved Casey." Chuck wasn't entirely sure he was too happy about that. "And you saved me." His eyes widened, and she carefully cleaned the blood off his skin with his shirt. He saved her? That was a new one. He saved her. He had to smile. "Thank you, Chuck."

"My pleasure." Did he qualify as a hero now? He saved her. He felt… proud. It was a new feeling for him.

"I'm glad you're getting the hang of those kung-fu flashes." Sarah was still smiling, but Chuck's ego deflated a little. She didn't think flash-less Chuck Bartowski had what it took to take a bullet for her. That was reserved for ruggedly handsome spies and Bryce Larkin, apparently. To add insult to injury, there was no more blood left for her to clean, and she took her hand off him to go get her phone. That hurt.

But it hadn't been the flash. It'd been him, and her, and seeing her in danger. "I didn't flash."

Sarah stopped on her tracks before she could reach her purse. "What?"

"I didn't flash. Well, I did, but that was later." He was beginning to ramble. Heroes did not ramble. He pulled himself together. "It was just me. Just… Chuck."

She stayed silent. Did she even believe him? Seconds passed, and Chuck convinced himself she didn't. Things got worse when she walked back to her spot in front of him and shot him what could only be described as an ice-cold look. "What were you thinking?" Wait, so she was mad at him? How did that happen? "You are the Intersect, Chuck! You are the one that has to make it alive. You can't just put yourself in danger like that! You are all that matters! Casey doesn't matter, I don't matter, you…"

"You matter to me!" Well, look at that. He was interrupting one of Sarah's Very Serious Lectures. Now _that_ was heroic.

"You. Are. The Intersect!" Chuck was fairly sure the only definition for what he saw in Sarah's eyes was pure, undiluted rage. "When are you going to understand that?"

"I get it!" He wasn't exactly a happy camper, himself. It drove him insane that ability of hers to go from sweet, understanding Sarah to Ice Queen Agent Walker in one second flat. "I'm the intersect! I don't get to have a normal life, I don't get to have a normal relationship, I don't get to have a normal anything!" He knew he'd hit a nerve. Well, good. They'd been avoiding the subject of their almost life together for weeks, it was about time someone at least referenced it. "I get it, but I won't stand by and watch you get hurt."

"Chuck…" She sighed, and sweet Sarah was back again. The flavor of sweet Sarah that broke his heart every single time. The one that always seemed to be on the verge of admitting she wanted to be with him. "I can't let you compromise the mission…" He'd heard enough. He wasn't about to sit through another speech about how their mission was more important than whatever it was that they felt. He just wanted her to stop talking. So he made her stop.

"I'm in love with you." Not to be smug, but he literally took her breath away. Her breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened, and she looked more human than he'd ever seen her look before. "When are _you_ going to understand _that_?"

And then she kissed him. Sweet and soft and a little bit hungry, and so _Sarah_ he was sure he'd have collapsed if he hadn't been sitting down. So he did the only thing a red-blooded human would do if Sarah walker kissed them: he kissed her back. And then he stood up and kissed her again, and then he kissed her neck down to her shoulder and thought he may just die if he didn't get to taste her skin every single second from that moment on. Because Sarah Walker tasted just as good as she smelled. And she smelled _good_.

"Chuck…" It had been a sound between a whisper and a moan. He'd never in his life say he didn't like his name again. "Chuck." Not so whispery anymore, but still Sarah, still...

"Bartowski!" Casey? No. Nonononono_no_. He squeezed his eyes shut and hoped he wasn't actually waking up. "Don't make me kick your ass out of bed, Bartowski."

He opened his eyes. He saw his handlers ready for business. He saw it was one in the morning. And then he cursed the Universe for giving him that dream and then taking it away.

"Chuck, we have a mission." Agent Walker, reporting for duty. No more breathless Sarah for him. "Get up."

And so he did. This was going to be a long, long day.


	2. 02:00 I Hate This Whole Family

**02:00 I hate this whole family**

Chuck sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, running his hands through his hair and willing his brain to focus on something other than his dream. He could see Casey's left foot impatiently tapping the floor, as if it was actually twitching from the effort the NSA agent was making not to shove it up Chuck's ass. The menacing growl that escaped Casey's lips was enough to give Chuck the push he needed to get on his feet. No time to be a normal human that needed a minute to wake up after being pulled out of the best dream ever at one in the morning. Okay then.

He dragged his feet to the chair where his clothes had been thrown a mere two hours earlier before he got into bed and reached for his shirt. And then he had the audacity to yawn. Bad idea. Very bad idea.

"Goddamit, Barto-" But Sarah silenced Casey just when his voice was beginning to rise, nodding her head in the general direction of Ellie and Awesome's room. Chuck had never been happier to be doing spy things in a house he shared with the Awesomes. Anything that kept Casey from yelling at him was a very good thing in his book.

But being quiet was apparently not an obstacle for Casey being far from gentle when he snatched the shirt from his hands. A little understanding for the guy who hadn't been trained to live on no sleep would have been nice.

"You won't need that." Calling Casey's words a whisper would have been like calling Darth Vader a sweet guy. It had been a hiss. If Sarah hadn't been in the room, Chuck would have been scared for his life. Especially because Casey was now grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the window.

"But-but…" Chuck whispered, looking at the wrinkled clothes on the chair "I'm wearing my jammies!" An old t-shirt and Superman-patterned boxers would have been more accurate, but he figured jammies was embarrassing enough. Casey completely ignored his pleads though, and when he looked at Sarah after jumping out of the window she just smirked in amusement, looking at his underwear of choice.

When she'd joined them out of his bedroom, she leaned closer to him and grinned wider as she spoke. "Don't worry, Chuck. I think they're cute." Although Chuck couldn't suppress a dorky smile at her comment, the moment Casey dragged him into his house he realized General Beckman would probably not appreciate them so much.

"Colonel Casey. Agent Walker…" The general cleared her throat before continuing, eyeing him with disapproval from the screen. No, she clearly did not appreciate the superhero attire. "Chuck. It's been almost twenty minutes, what took you so long?"

He tried to explain, but a yawn took over him and that was, apparently, all Beckman needed to know before going straight to the point. "This man has been captured by the NSA today." A picture appeared on the screen. "We suspect he may be involved with The Ring, but he will not talk."

Chuck looked at the man. He seemed normal enough. After a few moments of waiting for the general to continue, he looked around and saw three pairs of eyes fixated on him. "What?"

Sara shot him an encouraging look. "Nothing?" She looked from Chuck to the picture on the screen and then back to Chuck, looking down in defeat just when Casey let out an exasperated groan.

"This is useless."

Chuck finally understood what was expected from him. He'd rather blame his slow-moving mind on the lack of sleep than on sheer stupidity, which was clearly the thought in Casey's mind. So he looked at the picture again… and nothing. No flash. "Is it… possible that he's just not dangerous?"

"A search in his hotel room revealed evidence of him being linked to at least two of the Fulcrum agents we captured last year."

He looked at the picture again. _"Come on. Flash. Flash."_ Two weeks had passed since he uploaded the new Intersect into his brain, and he'd had no flashes to speak of after the impressive – and extremely cool, if you asked him – kung-fu moment on Ellie's second wedding day. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd flashed on a woman at BuyMore that ended up being just a thoroughly inoffensive old sorority sister of Jill's. And then a couple of days ago, when he looked at a terrorist's picture and had some kind of sad attempt at a flash that had given him absolutely no information.

He could not control this new Intersect. And he would be fine with it, if it wasn't for the fact that the intel was still somewhere in his brain and the general had been more than clear on the possibility of him going underground if he didn't get a grip on it soon. He needed to flash. And he needed to do it now.

But General Beckman spoke again before he could try and focus on the picture for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last half-hour. "Regardless of the lack of classified information," she shot Chuck a severe look that made him gulp "we did find a time and a place for a meeting in his phone's hard disk. Your mission will be to go there and find out who they are and what they do. I hope you're more successful when you see them in person, Mr. Bartowski."

"General." Casey took a step forward. "With all due respect, I don't think Bartowski is ready to go on a mission yet."

Chuck looked at him in disbelief. He'd practically dragged him out of bed – out of his dream – for nothing? Luckily, Sarah mimicked Casey's move to speak. She'd set things straight. "I agree with Colonel Casey, General. I think it'd be too risky to take Chuck on the field given the circumstances."

"Wait. What?" Chuck looked at them in disbelief. "We're Team Bartowski! We're a team, you can't just ditch me! The team's named after me!"

"It's too dangerous, Chuck." Sarah looked sincerely concerned. Not that it helped make him less irritated.

"I know kung-fu!" And, as everyone knows, nothing is too dangerous for a man who knows martial arts.

"Enough with the kung-fu, Bartowski. That was a glitch, for all we know." Casey was obviously trying very hard to keep his cool in front of the general. Chuck was actually afraid the vein on his neck would burst very soon. "Your whole brain is a glitch these days."

Chuck opened his mouth to defend himself, but Sarah spoke before he could. "Let's not blow this out of proportion." He knew for a fact that she was also worried about him being locked in some underground bunker for the rest of his life. "We agreed to give him some time to adjust to the new Intersect. We were expecting this."

"Thank you." Chuck smiled smugly at Casey. See? Sarah understood.

"You're still not coming."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. So much for trusting him. "I thought you were on my side!"

"This is not about taking sides, Chuck." Sarah spoke soothingly, as if she was trying to calm down a toddler in the middle of a tantrum. "This is about keeping you safe. That's still our first priority."

"I know what I'm doing." Chuck chose to ignore Casey's incredulous huff. "Trust me, Sarah."

"Chuck, I…" Sarah was about to give in, he could just tell. He knew that look. With the parted lips and the pleading eyes, as if she was begging him not to make her say it. "I…"

"That's enough." General Beckman's voice made them all look back at the screen. Chuck often wondered what kind of special training she'd taken to make such a huge amount of authority fit into that little body. He also wondered if she purposefully interrupted always at the worst times. He had a feeling he'd have liked whatever Sarah was going to say. "Agent Walker, I believe you two are perfectly capable of keeping Mr. Bartowski safe. Colonel Casey, we cannot afford to miss the chance of him flashing on something while on the mission. And Mr. Bartowski, I expect you to follow each and every one of your handlers' indications." She leaned back on her seat. "You'll be leaving at 03:00. All three of you. That's an order." And just like that, the screen went blank.

"I hope you're happy, Bartowski." Casey went over to his computer to read the details on the mission.

Sarah just shook her head and walked past him to start packing some guns, the expression on her face a perfect mix of worry and anger.

Well, wasn't that just lovely. His first real mission with the new Intersect and all three members of Team Chuck were mad at each other. Just like a real family. He took a look at his watch and saw there were only twenty minutes left before they had to leave. "I'll just…" he pointed at the door "go put some clothes on."

"No time." Casey didn't even look at him as he spoke. "Appropriate clothing will be provided when we arrive." Chuck was fairly sure he saw Sarah trying to suppress a smirk.

Team crisis and going out in his underwear?

This day was just never going to end.


	3. 03:00 Did you flash?

**03:00 Did you flash?**

Chuck sat on the couch in Casey's living room-slash-surveillance center and eyed his handlers with anger. Look at them. Whispering code words and checking weapons and ammo while ignoring the man sitting just a few steps away from them. But if they thought he'd be the one to crack, they were very wrong. He had his own reasons to hate them right now. Telling Beckman he was useless. Not trusting him.

Chuck wasn't one to hold a grudge – Bryce Larkin notwithstanding – but they'd been giving him the silent treatment for almost ten minutes, and he felt he had the right to do the same to them. Even if sitting on a couch with his arms crossed over his chest wasn't nearly as cool as planning a national security mission.

"All set. Walker?" Casey looked at Sarah, and she placed the last gun in her bag and gave a professional nod, her face unreadable. Chuck couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her look so… agent-y. "Let's go." Each agent flung a black bag over their shoulder and both walked towards the door with long steps, Sarah going outside while Casey took one last look behind him and stood by the door. "Move it, Bartowski!"

Chuck stood up and quickly followed Sarah outside, doing his best to look as angry as he felt. It really wasn't easy to appear outraged when you were practically running to follow orders.

Sarah waited by the back door of the black car until Chuck got inside and then slammed the door shut. Apparently, he couldn't even be trusted with the most basic of tasks. "Can I at least know where we're going?" He asked when the two agents had taken their seats on the front.

Casey blatantly ignored Chuck's question, but Sarah looked at him through the rear view mirror and opened her mouth to speak. At least one of his two handlers understood the basics of being a human being. "Seatbelt." Or maybe not.

Chuck followed Sarah's indication and tried again, this time a little louder. "Guys. Where are we going?"

"You already know more than enough, Bartowski." Casey kept his eyes fixed on the road in front of him. "Until you can control your brain, we can't risk you having any information that could compromise the mission."

"You have got to be kidding me." Chuck let out an incredulous laugh. "So now I've gone from asset to what, exactly? Part of the equipment?"

Casey and Sarah's stubborn silence made him shake his head in disbelief before letting it rest on the back of his seat. He hadn't asked for this, anyway. Well, he did ask for the mission, but not for the rest of his now completely insane life. He just wanted to be Intersect-free. And he was almost there, almost touching freedom with his fingertips, when Bryce Larking messed everything up, once again. Okay, maybe that wasn't fair. He did ask Chuck to destroy the Intersect. But what was he supposed to do? He wasn't the same Chuck Bartowski anymore.

Casey sort of respected him, in his own name-calling, detached way. Sarah wasn't going to leave. Sarah. He did it for her, in a way. She was the one person who had always, from day one, believed in him. She truly thought he had what it took to be a hero. And there he was, faced with a choice between the possibility of a normal life, and pure heroism.

For a split second – and not any longer – he understood Sarah's reluctance to ditch her job and join him in a life of normalcy. Sadly, a split second was all it took for him to activate the computer in front of him.

Maybe – just maybe – if he'd taken just another second to think, he'd be enjoying the beaches of Bora Bora with Sarah right now instead of being dragged to some undetermined place to give the Intersect another try. But maybe then he'd hate himself for being a coward. Maybe Sarah would, too, for destroying what Bryce had given his life for. Maybe this was the lesser of two evils.

The car stopped next to what looked like an abandoned warehouse, and Casey was the first to leave the car. Sarah at least had the nice – maybe human would be a more accurate word for it – gesture of talking to him before she followed the colonel. "Let's go."

Chuck walked a few steps behind his handlers towards the warehouse, wondering exactly where they were and why. But he lost his train of thought when Casey entered a code into a small box on the side of the building and the front wall slid open to reveal a small plane, apparently waiting for them. Not that there was anything resembling a crew in there, but still. He'd been working with – or for, as things were looking right now – Casey and Sarah for long enough to know seeing a vehicle usually meant it would be taking them somewhere. This plane thing was a first, though.

Casey and Sarah quickly boarded the plane, leaving him alone to stare slack-jawed at it. It was one thing to be driven to some sort of secret location. But flying? Flying opened up a whole new category of worrying scenarios in Chuck's mind.

A few moments after they'd left him, both agents appeared once again, almost identical looks of impatience on their faces as they looked down at him from the plane. "What are you waiting for, Bartowski? A red carpet?" Chuck took Casey's comment as an order to get inside as fast as possible, and Sarah locked the door behind him as soon as he took the first step inside.

The plane was… functional. Not luxurious in any way, just the basics to get from one place to another. Chuck figured it was the Ford Focus of planes. Nothing fancy. At least the seats looked comfy enough. So much so, in fact, that he couldn't suppress a yawn when he thought about the opportunity to get some sleep before they arrived at wherever they were going.

He picked a seat by one of the windows, facing the front of the small plane, and shifted a little to make himself comfortable before reclining the back and closing his eyes. _"Oh, yeah. That's what I'm talking about, baby."_ Chuck grinned and let out a quiet sigh, fully prepared to fall asleep and wake up not one second before they landed. Maybe his dream would pick up where he left off two hours earlier, with some luck.

But he'd only started to feel his muscles relax when someone pulled on the handle next to his seat, making him sit up straight with a jerk. "Seats must be in an upright position for take-off."

"Sorry, Casey. Gonna point to the exits and offer me some peanuts now?" Chuck could have sworn Sarah was trying to suppress a smile right before Casey sent a menacing growl his way.

For a moment, Chuck really thought he'd stepped over the line and Casey was going to kill him, Intersect be damned. Luckily, Sarah cut the tension when she spoke. "03:04, Casey."

They exchanged quick nods and meaningful glances – Chuck was sure there was a subject in spy school about saying full sentences with just a few looks – before Sarah took the seat opposite Chuck's and Casey disappeared through the door on the front of the plane. She only looked at him to make sure his seatbelt was fastened, and her face remained completely stoic for the few moments it took the plane to start moving slowly out of the warehouse. Apparently, she was fully determined to be Agent Walker for every second of this mission. But Chuck didn't have the time to analyze Sarah's face for much longer, because the plane started to move considerably faster, and he was too busy trying to stay calm.

He wasn't a fan of flying. He hadn't been in too many planes in his life – four, to be exact – and he'd always done his best to sleep through everything. But he'd always been forced to endure take-off and landing fully awake, and this time was no exception.

Wanting to take his mind off the many different deadly scenarios he was imagining at that moment, he looked at Sarah and tried to make small talk. "So. The pilot sure was stealth getting on board, huh?" He hadn't even noticed anyone in the warehouse when they arrived. Then again, he was getting used to people being sneaky around him.

Sarah looked away from the window and focused her eyes on him, a look of slight confusion on her face. "What?"

"The pilot." He let out a nervous laugh when he felt the plane begin to shake. "I didn't even see the guy, is he an agent too?"

"There's no pilot, Chuck." His eyes widened in sheer terror. What, now? "Casey's flying the plane."

"What!?" The sound barely made it through his suddenly dry throat, and he squeezed his eyes shut when the plane started to raise, his fingers gripping the seat until his knuckles went white. _"I'm going to die. We're all going to die. Nonononono…"_

He didn't open his eyes again until he felt the plane stabilize. Okay, they'd made it through take-off. That was about three more minutes than what he expected to live. When he finally relaxed, he was surprised to feel Sarah's warm skin on top of his right hand. He was even more surprised to look up and find an even warmer smile on her face. "Casey is a trained pilot, Chuck." She gave his hand a little squeeze. "Don't worry."

Chuck nodded slightly, more because he was still shocked at the sudden appearance of Sweet Sarah than because he actually felt safe. If Casey flew anything like he drove, they were in for one hell of a flight. "I'm not big on the flying." His voice was barely above a whisper, and Sarah's hand didn't leave his. He was beginning to not hate this day.

"You flew a helicopter." Sarah nodded encouragingly. "By yourself." He had to half-smile at that. He did do that. "I think you can handle this." Of course she did. She thought he could handle practically everything. Or maybe she didn't, really, and she just said she did to guilt him into playing the brave hero part. Either way, it worked. Every single time.

"I'm just gonna try and get some sleep." He slipped his hand from under Sarah's and reached for the handle on the side of his seat, prepared to dream his way through this flight.

"Actually…" Great. No sleep for him. "I think we should go through a few files, see if you flash on something."

He sighed and nodded, blinking a few times to focus. Sarah had been doing these little training sessions with him since the day she learnt about the possibility of him going underground. She said she did it for him, so he wouldn't have to be separated from his friends and family. He liked to think she counted herself among the people she wanted him to be with.

"Ready?" Chuck looked at the picture Sarah was holding. A house. Nothing. A helicopter. Still nothing. Some sort of Chinese symbol, a bullet, a dangerous-looking woman, two guns, a series of numbers… a dead man.

"Okay, creepy!" He looked away, waiting for Sarah to show him a different picture.

"Focus, Chuck." With a sigh, he looked again. Nothing.

"Nope, just dead and creepy, no flashes. Can I look at something else now?" She finally put the picture away. A child, a phrase in some undetermined language, an FBI badge, another woman… oh, wait! "I know her!" Sarah smiled, hopeful. "Isn't she Carina?"

She frowned and turned the picture in her hand to look at it. "Oh." She put it face-down on top of the pile of discarded photos. "I just took a handful of files, I figured any of them would do." Sarah took the next picture and held it out for him. A Japanese sword. And still no flash.

Chuck couldn't tell if they'd been at it for minutes or hours, but it really felt like the latter. He was sick and tired of looking at pictures already. On the bright side, he'd practically forgotten he was flying. But, really. The boring pictures were making it harder and harder to stay awake. Buildings, people, weaponry, numbers, words… and then a face. And his eyes widened slightly as he wondered if he should speak his name.

"Chuck?"

"I uh…" He looked away. "Bryce Larkin."

Sarah looked at the picture and pursed her lips slightly. She stared at it for a little while, with something flashing through her eyes that looked like sadness, or anger, or maybe both. And then, as suddenly as they'd appeared, the emotions left her face, and she put the picture on top of the others, slamming it down on the seat next to her. "Let's…" Sarah cleared her throat. "Let's continue."

"I'm sorry." It suddenly hit him that he hadn't even thought about asking Sarah how she was after seeing Bryce dead for the second – or was it third? – time.

She acknowledged his words with a quick nod. "Anything?"

But Chuck wasn't looking at the picture, he was still looking at her. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Chuck, just look at the pictures!" He sat up straight, shocked at the sudden outburst, and Sarah sighed and relaxed her previously furious face. "I'm sorry. I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

He just looked at the picture, shaking his head to indicate he was still seeing nothing. Not that he expected to, considering his mind was completely filled with Sarah. Was she all right? He really thought she wasn't. Did she have someone to talk to? He knew she didn't. He just wanted her to be okay. After all, when things got tough he had Ellie, Morgan and even Sarah herself. But, unless she and Casey hung out from time to time and shared their problems – and Casey discussing sandwiches and desert islands with him was far more likely than that – Sarah had no one to talk to. No one to…

"Chuck!" He jerked up, suddenly realizing he'd almost fallen asleep. "Did you just flash?"

Chuck shook his head. "No, I was just falling asleep." He smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

She sighed and put the pictures away. "We're almost there. Let's take a break."

"Thanks." A quick look at his watch let him know they'd been flying for forty-five minutes, so wherever they were taking him couldn't be too far from LA. With that thought, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"Chuck?" He should have been annoyed. Really, he'd been up since one in the morning, didn't he deserve some sleep? But it hadn't been Agent Walker's voice, not even Sarah The Handler's voice, and he couldn't get mad at her when she was being just Sarah. So he opened his eyes.

"Yeah."

"I do trust you." He smiled at her, even though her face showed nothing but seriousness. Which was a good thing, considering what she'd just said. "We were just trying to protect you."

"I know." He nodded. "Thank you."

And then they had one of those moments. When she looked into his eyes and – perhaps more importantly – let him look into hers. Something told him that was the perfect moment to bring up the issue of her not wanting to leave him after the wedding. Just Sarah had been mostly missing since the new Intersect was uploaded into his brain, and he figured he had to take his chances.

"Sarah?" She smiled slightly, and that gave him the last push he needed to say what he'd been wanting to say for two weeks. "Were you going to stay with me? You know, after the we- oh Jesus Christ!"

He gasped when the plane tilted down to begin the landing part of the trip. This was – by far – his most hated part. When the tiniest little error could end in a spectacular crash. Not that he thought Casey was capable of making errors like the rest of humankind, but still. Scary. So he pulled a Morgan and squeezed his eyes shut, grasping the seat again.

This time, he was half-expecting Sarah's hand to cover his. And, without opening his eyes, he relaxed that hand to hold Sarah's, figuring if these were indeed the last minutes of his life, he may as well allow himself some luxuries. And the fact that holding her hand when they were alone qualified as a luxury spoke volumes about his love life. Or lack thereof.

He kept his eyes shut when the wheels made the first contact with the concrete of the landing strip. And – even though he was mostly fine by then – he didn't open them until the plane was completely still, just because Sarah's thumb was soothingly stroking the back of his hand and he was afraid she'd stop if he dared open his eyes.

When he finally looked at her, Sarah was still serious, but with a hint of something else in her eyes. "Yes."

He shook his head, more than a little confused. "What?"

"Yes, Chuck." She didn't pull her hand away from his, and he took it as a good sign. "I was going to stay with y-"

"It's 03:59." Casey's voice resounded in the small plane as he walked through the door with his usual military demeanor, and Sarah jerked her hand away, her CIA poker face firmly in place. God, he hated John Casey at that very moment. He just wanted to make him shut up so Sarah could finish talking. There's no way he wanted to hear what the colonel had to say…

"Welcome to Las Vegas, Bartowski."

…or maybe he did.


End file.
